HMS/M Repulse

Today many of my former shipmates and comrades-in-arms, and their partners, will be getting together to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the commissioning of Her Majesty's Submarine Repulse. This post, and the panel, is dedicated to those men who served in the Port and Starboard Crews throughout her long service, and to all who continue to "go down to the sea in ships". Repulse was built with great skill and care by Vickers Shipbuilders (VSEL) at Barrow-in-Furness on the NW coast of England; veteran submarine designers and builders from the Holland 4 in 1902 up to the latest Astute Class submarines (although now as BAE Systems Submarine Solutions). Launched in November 1967, she became part of the Royal Navy's polaris nuclear deterrent on her commissioning in 1968. I was one of 143 Port Crew members, and a similar number of Starboard Crew (Blue and Gold in the USN) who stood proudly by as the white ensign was raised for the first time.

For the 143 men (sorry, no women as yet allowed on naval submarines!) of each crew she was a happy ship, and remained undetected during all of her 60 patrols. Apart from regular drills life could be pretty monotonous - a daily round of watches, maintenance and the occasional defect to repair. Off-watch activities were devoted to sleep, endless games of uckers (ludo), Risk and cards, cinema and an array of meals that old submariners could only dream of. Other diversions were a daily radio program, the newsheet and, possibly a first for a submarine, on one patrol a pantomime was produced.

For the families it meant the loss of the "man of the house" for weeks on end, with no communication from the boat, and only the once weekly familygram sent from shore. Initially 20 words, it was usually of the order of "Took children to zoo, all OK, weather awful, car broke down, grass needs mowing, missing you, not long to go." Later versions were up to 50 words long, but all were vetted before release and were at the Captain's discretion if really bad news was included.

A strange life, living in a tin box under the sea, and not for everyone I suspect. As young men I don't think we thought too hard about it, although the implication of actually firing our missiles would be that we had no homes to return to. None of us really believed we would ever use our deterrent, and it is fair to say that with them on both sides they did keep the cold war from becoming hot. Lasting friendships were made on those patrols, and for those of us who left the Navy early, previous reunions have reminded us of how close-knit we were once upon a time.

This weekend will, I know, be a time for reminiscing, as well as catching up. The bodies will be a little fuller, the hair a little less, but I have no doubt that the beer and wine will flow freely as always, and so will the tall stories and memories. I wish them all good cheer and hope to meet up with them at the 50th reunion. In the meantime, "Up Spirits" and "Splice the Mainbrace".

"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters; These see the works of the LORD, and his wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end. Then they cry unto the LORD in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven." Psalms, 107:23-30,